


Northside Drabbles

by ForASecondThereWedWon



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Best Friends, Elections, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Pining, Sleepovers, Stargazing, Student Council, beronica, meteor showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForASecondThereWedWon/pseuds/ForASecondThereWedWon
Summary: You've tried Serpent Drabbles, Bughead Drabbles, and Falice Drabbles. Now try... NORTHSIDE DRABBLES!A collection of the Northsider-centric drabbles I've previously posted on my Tumblr (forasecondtherewedwon), each based on one or multiple prompts, as requested by my followers. FYI, there have been no heterosexual couple requests thus far, so you won't find Bughead or Varchie here!





	1. Hold My Hand and Tell Me Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the "Writing Prompts" list, prompt 52: “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.”
> 
> Pairing: Betty/Veronica (Beronica)

This was her happy place, Veronica decided, walking down the quiet hallway with Betty, back to their lockers after River Vixens practice. The school year was nearly over, so all of the afterschool clubs had had their final meetings; the end-of-the-year tournaments of Riverdale High’s sports teams were almost all played out. Even the Vixens were approaching the end of their run, not that anyone would’ve guessed it by Cheryl’s regime of training them as hard as ever.

For certain, there wouldn’t be many more days like this. Veronica was running out of chances. There was sweat on her palms when she gripped the strap of her duffle bag, dumping it on the floor in front of her locker, and it wasn’t from the extra lap of the gym Cheryl had made them do.

“You’re quiet today,” Betty remarked with a smile, clicking her lock open and reaching inside, beginning to fill her backpack. “Is it just from practice?”

Veronica took a deep breath, not opening her own locker, but standing with her hands clasped nervously in front of her instead.

“Actually,” she divulged, keeping her eyes on the side of Betty’s face as her friend retrieved and packed her Chem textbook, “it’s not. B, can I talk to you about something?”

Betty whipped around to face her.

“Are you ok? Is it your dad? Is it the History exam on Thursday? Do you need notes? Did something happen with Archie? Do you need a tampon?” She lowered her voice for the last inquiry and Veronica smiled, amused. Of course, this was Betty. Betty, her best friend. Betty, who cared. She would listen and understand, like she always did. Maybe.

Veronica exhaled and shook her head.

“No, to all of the above.” She raised a finger, contemplatively. “Except the first question because, yes, I am ok.”

“Alright.” Betty still looked worried, tugging the elastic from her hair and fixing her ponytail. “Do you want to talk?”

“That would be… perfect,” Veronica decided. “Why don’t we sit in the lounge for a minute?”

“Whatever you want, V,” Betty readily agreed, pushing her things back into her locker for the moment.

Veronica hurriedly stowed her own gym bag, making the lock rattle with her trembling fingers. Wow, that was so not _Lodge_ of her.

“So… let’s go?” Betty suggested. Veronica could only nod, then they were making their way to the student lounge.

Without consulting one another out loud, both girls headed for the couch, central seating in their usual school day gatherings. Yes, this was good. Betty would feel safe here. With Jughead, Kevin, and Archie there, it would’ve been an ordinary day. Except that Veronica really didn’t want to think about Archie right now.

“Betty,” she said, sounding too serious.

“Veronica,” her friend replied, matching her tone. They both laughed. “Seriously, V, the suspense is killing me. What’s up? You can tell me.”

Innocently, Betty reached for Veronica’s hand. Well, Veronica thought, her mistake because she wasn’t getting it back now. Veronica held on securely, feeling the delicate ridges of the bones in the back of Betty’s hand.

“You know that I don’t like lying,” she began, catching Betty’s attentive gaze, “and secrets, between friends, are almost as bad as lies.”

Veronica paused. It felt like things were getting a little dizzy, a little surreal. Should she just close her mouth now and forget this attempt had ever been made? No, that would never work on Betty, Queen of persistence and closure. Veronica needed to catch not her breath, but her heart, surging under her ribs.

“Whatever it is,” B insisted, rephrasing her care, “I’m listening.”

“It’s so hard,” Veronica admitted at a whisper.

“Then tell me gently,” Betty suggested with a generous smile.

“I think…” Veronica breathed the words, letting them float and die in the stale air. She focused on Betty’s pale green eyes, saw that she was being heard. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares me half to death.”

Betty kept staring at her, head coming forward a little like she was peering through a telescope. Veronica knew she was deciding a few things. Was Veronica telling the truth? Had she heard the words correctly? Was she capable of a response that wouldn’t completely shatter Veronica’s heart? Veronica was hoping for a universal _yes_ to those questions.

“You are?”

This was a fair question too, Veronica thought, coming from a girl a little uncertain of love since Jughead had dumped her and left her for the half-living realm of the heartbroken. Betty had come back to herself since then, blooming again and even accepting Jughead gradually back into her life―just not in the same way.

Veronica nodded.

“You know me,” she kidded. “Once I get an idea in my head, I’m pretty hard to dissuade.”

Betty nodded back.

“It’s hard to change your mind.”

“This is even worse,” Veronica confessed, “because the idea’s not in my mind, it’s in my heart.”

They sat quietly for a minute, not looking at each other; Veronica didn’t want to make it weird by trying to catch Betty’s eye.

“What about Archie?”

Poor Archie. Veronica did care about him, _deeply_ , but once there was the idea of Betty… her mind was made up.

“I’ll break up with him tomorrow. He’s strong in more ways than one.”

“Wow,” Betty sighed. “V.” She turned her face and Veronica could look in her eyes again. “I never thought…”

“I know,” Veronica assured her, “but there’s no team like you and me.”

“Can I think about it?” Betty asked shyly. Veronica smiled.

“ _Please_ , yes. Please think about it. I could really use your brilliant brain on this one.”

“Ok,” Betty promised, sounding a little dazed. “I’m going to go back to my locker now. You wanna come?”

Veronica nodded and they stood at the same time.

“I do have one more thing to say though,” Betty stated suddenly, stopping Veronica from leaving. Veronica waited. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

Betty leaned in and kissed her cheek. Veronica wanted to hold her close, keep her longer.

Maybe tomorrow.


	2. Seeing Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the "Writing Prompts" list, prompt 34: “These stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”; prompt 40: “Have I ever lied to you?”; and prompt 100: “I adore you.”
> 
> Pairing: Cheryl/Veronica

Cheryl was lying on her back on the ground and thinking about the rat in _Charlotte’s Web_. Well, not exactly the ground, but a thick plaid blanket, and not exactly the rat, but the idea of someone who could help you figure out exactly the right thing to say. Neither of these behaviours were typical of her, but she was too preoccupied to be bothered.

She was thinking of Veronica―beautiful, loyal, self-possessed Veronica―who was lying with her arm inches from Cheryl’s own. She’d invited her over―this girl, this classmate, this ex-girlfriend of the last boy Cheryl ever planned to kiss―on the offer of a great un-light-polluted view of tonight’s meteor shower from the back lawn of Thistle House. A mere premise.

Staring ever upward, Cheryl pictured the stars aligning to spell out ‘I adore you.’ Decidedly more glamorous and majestic than a dew-coated spider’s web, with an otherworldliness compared to which other desperate attempts to gain a potential partner’s attention embedded in the romantic ethos (flash mobs, promposals, even skywriting, the bastard cousin of what Cheryl was currently imagining) fell pathetically short.

Alas, the small maple fortune this surviving Blossom twin had inherited from her murderous pater would be woefully insufficient to hire out a rearranging of celestial bodies, had the technology to do so existed. Cheryl sighed deeply.

“You’re not falling asleep, are you?” Veronica had turned her head to look carefully at Cheryl, searching for, Cheryl assumed, signs of fatigue.

“Of course not,” she protested. “Just conserving energy. How are you holding up?” Cheryl snuck a sideways glance at her crush beneath her eyelashes. Her round face was lovely in profile.

“Oh fine,” Veronica lightly assured her, reaching above her head for the open bag of licorice that laid among the assortment of junky snacks Cheryl had bought specifically for the occasion. Sleepover food.

“And yet the need for a sugar boost,” Cheryl observed with a smirk, rolling her shoulders slightly to improve her comfort.

“I’m awake. Don’t worry about me.” There was the soft noise of movement across the blanket. Cheryl noticed Veronica had rolled her knees to the side, towards Cheryl, though her eyes still looked heavenward.

“Ok,” she responded serenely, watching the pale gleam of the night sky on her friend’s face.

“What’s the time now?”

Cheryl pulled out her phone to check.

“12: 26. Not long until the main event.” She eyed the telescope they had at the ready, the best a non-professional-astronomer could buy.

“You say that…” Veronica began, lifting a loose arm as if to swathe the universe, “…but _that_ is so magnificent all on its own.”

Humming happily, Cheryl tilted her head.

“Hmm yeah,” she agreed. “Like diamonds. Although, if we could see them closer, just glowing with energy, they’d probably look more like pearls.”

Thoughtlessly, Cheryl shifted onto her side and reached out to touch the necklace puddled in the notch of Veronica’s throat. She drew her hand back before the wish to stroke Veronica’s skin overtook her.

“Are you sure about that?” her dark-haired friend skeptically inquired.

Cheryl propped herself up on an elbow.

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Veronica darted a glance at her.

“Probably.” She laughed and Cheryl relaxed a little. “You’re not the easiest person to read.”

“You want to know something else about the sky?” Cheryl prodded.

“Absolutely. Educate me, Cheryl.” Veronica turned the rest of her body to face Cheryl, wedging folded hands under her cheek. Those eyes were their own phenomenon, Cheryl thought, drawing her in as effectively as a black hole.

“These stars,” Cheryl informed her in a voice that was quiet but steady, “are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.”

Veronica began to smile like Cheryl had just told a joke, then stopped. Hurriedly, she sat up and Cheryl scrambled to do the same, completely terrified.

“Veronica…”

She reached for the girl’s hand, certain it would be pulled away before she could ever make contact, but it wasn’t. Veronica sat still as Cheryl’s heart pounded and the universe expanded all around them.

“I’ve been really alone, Cheryl,” she confessed at a whisper. “Since Archie retreated from my mess of a family. I didn’t have that option.”

“I know.” Cheryl frowned sympathetically, watching the way Veronica seemed to stare straight off into the trees that lined the far end of the property.

Blinking, that dark-featured face turned towards her.

“You know?”

“Some things you can see without a telescope.”

Before she could think of another thing, Veronica was moving around to face her, making their knees touch as they sat. Cheryl’s lips parted as her brain shuffled and fanned possible ways to continue the conversation that wouldn’t make Veronica feel pathetic or like Cheryl was some kind of stalker, but she didn’t need any of them. Veronica gradually leaned forward, gently touched Cheryl’s cheek, and kissed her.

As Veronica dropped her hand and drew back, Cheryl caught it and felt her fingers trembling.

“I think,” Veronica said, gaze sliding from one of Cheryl’s eyes to the other, “maybe I need you. Maybe I’ve _been_ needing you for a long time.”

“I’m here,” Cheryl promised, holding tightly to her hand.

High above, meteors streaked the sky with brilliant lines of light that they could briefly see, never touch, but always allow to remind them of the distance objects could come to create something spectacular.


	3. A Likely Candidate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the "Writing Prompts" list, prompt 42: “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”
> 
> Pairing: Jughead/Archie (Jarchie)

Jughead might have been rolling his eyes through Archie’s premiere campaign speech, but he was smiling too. His best friend was working overtime to improve voters’ opinions on Team Varchie before the student council election, and as far as Jughead was concerned, was managing to come across just as earnest and wholesome as his girlfriend seemed defensive and untrustworthy.

The way Archie made his way through the little crowd in the student lounge after giving his address was so polished, so political―shaking hands and grinning as he received slaps on the back―that Jughead could picture him winning bigger elections, or getting his picture on a cereal box. Some sort of small town triumph was coming this guy’s way, he knew just by looking at him.

Something was missing though, and it wasn’t the dark-haired ex-heiress so often a fixture on Archie’s arm. Jughead narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure it out, watching Archie closely. His friend was looking around for some reason… then his gaze lasered across Jughead’s and his whole face relaxed. He’d looked genuine before, but this iteration of it had the air of broken-in comfort. You only got that familiarity from being best friends since before your parents allowed you to choose your own company, Jughead knew. He slipped between those classmates of his who had lingered in the room.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” he commented snidely. Only because he knew Archie always saw through stuff like that, coming from him.

“Was it ok?” Archie scratched a hand through his hair nervously. “It felt risky doing something without Ronnie here, but she insisted.”

“I didn’t see anyone loft a baby for you to kiss, but then again, of Riverdale High’s last two teen parents, one’s dead and the other’s run away to a cult, so I wouldn’t take the lacklustre under-14-year-old turnout personally.”

Archie laughed.

“Thanks, I think.” He glanced away as Veronica appeared in the doorway with a keen expression, clearly eager to rehash the outcome of the impromptu event. “Any tips?” Archie asked Jughead, attention evidently divided.

“Yeah,” Jughead joked. “Quit wearing your heart on your sleeve like that unless you want to bleed out.”

Archie focused on him long enough to toss out a curious look and a hearty slap on the shoulder. Jughead sighed and retreated to the couch. He grabbed a VOTE VARCHIE flyer off one of the cushions and sat, smoothing the thing out between his hands before laying it on the table.

“It’s your own fault.”

Resting his arm along the back of the couch, Jughead strained around. Kevin was strolling across the room from the vending machines.

“What is?” he asked with a frown.

“This position you’re in.” Kevin raised wise eyebrows.

“Are you going to get to the part where you tell me to go back to high school, Teen Angel, or are vague criticisms the only thing on your menu of advice today?”

Kevin perched himself on the back of the couch, so Jughead slumped protectively into the corner.

“You should’ve snapped that boy up when you had the chance,” he stated.

Jughead felt truly lost.

“Excuse me?”

“The election!” Kevin clarified. “The two of you would’ve made a great team. Archie: football player, songwriter, friend and hero to all! You: uh… known associate of the former.”

“Thanks,” Jughead responded flatly. He looked away from Kevin, pointlessly scanning the empty room.

“Of course, my comment also applies to your obvious crush on him,” he said casually.

That made it hard to keep ignoring him.

“Please tell me you’re talking to yourself right now, Kevin.”

“Only when I cook, study, and psych myself up for dates.”

“Be serious,” Jughead seriously implored him.

Kevin gripped his shoulder hard enough to remind Jughead the guy was on the wrestling team. He met his eye.

“I am,” Kevin insisted. He released his grip.

 _Argue_ , a scrappy voice inside Jughead prompted. _Argue!_

“Oh please,” Jughead scoffed. “Even if I was… interested… we would not be well matched. His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”

“So you admit you’re watching. Good for you,” Kevin declared, ruffling Jughead’s hair through his beanie with confident force.

“I―

“Uh, uh, uh,” he warned, rising from the couch. “Save the rebuttals for the debate.”

The second Kevin left the lounge, Jughead set aside his horror of the things that had been done, eaten, and spilled on this couch to flip himself onto his stomach and bury his face in the cushion as he groaned in a combination of painful longing and splintering denial. Not Archie, not now. He turned his head and caught sight of the flyer, calls to action positioned around the smiling face of the best friend he’d ever had.

This was exactly what wannabe politicos desired―to successfully manipulate your emotions so that you would only support _them_ , only believe _them_ , only see _them_ as the candidate who was right for you. Jughead picked up the piece of paper and studied the boyish grin. If what he was feeling was just propaganda, well, he’d officially been duped.


End file.
